


A Robins Final Straw

by Rugratt8899



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Hurt No Comfort, Jason Todd Being a Little Shit, Other, no romance just pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rugratt8899/pseuds/Rugratt8899
Summary: A small take on Jason Todd's death and his path to the Red Hood, Inspired by Under the Red Hood. I wrote this for a grade in my Creative Writing class.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Crowbar, jason todd/death
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	A Robins Final Straw

Jason’s s eyes observed The Joker as he paced the floor, seemingly looking for something. Jason was nothing but annoyed at the outcome of this evening. It was supposed to be a regular mission, at least that was what he told himself. He planned to track The Joker after finding evidence of him trying to buy nuclear arms. However, even with evidence of The Joker’s involvement here, there was no reason for him to be in Bosnia especially after Batman forbade him from going. However, at the ripe age of 15, he was never one to follow orders and now here he is, laying on a warehouse floor wondering what The Joker has in store for him. He tried to focus, trying to figure out what could have possibly led him here. How could Robin, no, Jason Peter Todd end up in this situation?  
  
  
His mind flashes back to where it all began. Gotham City was never a safe place and Crime Alley located in the underbelly of Gotham was at the worst, and Jason only 12 years old knew that all too well. However, when you’re alone at that age the only thing on your mind is survival. So, when he saw the Bat Mobile parked in that dark alley right next to that old diner that his parents used to take him to before, Jason shook his head. He did not have time to think about them right now, he had work to do. He quickly began removing tires from the vehicle, and it would have been the perfect crime if Batman had not returned half-way through the process. He expected him to be angry, he expected him to yell, he thought that he would haul him all the way to the same place they locked up all the bad guys; but he did not. Batman was not angry, nor did he yell, and he did not try and lock him up in Arkham. Batman approached him slowly until he was standing in front of him, face to masked face.  
“Please, Mr. Batman, I didn’t know this was your Bat Mobile. I can put the tires back on and you can be on your way.” Jason frantically began grabbing the tire iron and attempted to put them back on the vehicle. Batman reached out his cold gloved hand and placed it on Jason’s shoulder and said something Jason to this day would never forget. “A kid like you, no matter how strong shouldn’t have to be alone, especially not here. Let me help you.”  
  
  
A hard kick to his rib cage snapped him out of his thoughts and back to the present.  
  
  
“My, my little boy wonder, don’t you think it’s rude to sleep in when you have guests?” The Joker cackled as he reached for a nearby crowbar. Jason prepped for what was to come. He would have prayed for help, for anyone to come and save him, but he knew that praying was not going to save him from this. God could not save him from The Joker, and neither could Batman. The onslaught of hits from the crowbar was excruciating but nothing was worse than The Joker’s constant running mouth.  
  
  
“Hold on now, that looked like it really hurt. Tell me what hurts more? A?” He raises the crowbar and lands it on Jason’s ribcage, “or B?” A swing and the blow lands on the corner of Jason’s skull, blood dripping down his black hair, “forehand?” Another hit to the ribcage, this time causing Jason to eject blood from his mouth, spraying on the nearby boxes. “or backhand?” The constant crowbar hits began to merge into a blur. Jason only hoped it would end sooner rather than later. With each hit his hands pushed against the metal handcuffs creating large bruises, Jason cursed because he knew Bruce would not let him in the field after all of this, especially with all these injuries. He tried to chuckle at the thought, but all that came out was wheezing The Joker mistook for talking. The Joker knelt down placing his face an inch from his face, “Speak louder Lambchop, I think you might have a collapsed lung. That always makes it difficult to speak” The Joker grabbed his hair and lifted his face up to his only to have Jason promptly spit blood on his cheek. “The previous boy wonder had some manners.” He lifted his arm and delivered another blow onto his back. The Joker's laughs echoed through the warehouse. How could a monster like this be allowed to live? His existence is a cruel joke on Gotham and an everlasting reminder of Batman worst mistake. Jason let out a chuckle at the thought of what Batman would do to The Joker once he finally got here. His short laugh was quickly stopped with another hit from the crowbar. “Got a joke you want to tell their bird boy? Oh! Let me guess, you’re finally realizing Bats isn’t coming.” Jason’s eyes widened and shot up at him. “Oh? Did you actually think Bats was coming? That’s just priceless!” The Joker threw his head back in laughter. Tossing the crowbar to the side he held his stomach as the laughter roared for what Jason felt like was forever. Once the laughter subsided The Joker's expression changed to a seemingly serious tone, well as serious as a guy dressed like a clown could look Jason thought. The Joker knelt down, “Listen, kid, Batsy isn’t coming, he was never going to come.” His face curled up into a terrifying smile, “You’re going to die alone here, and then Bats is going to replace you. Just like he did the old Boy Wonder.” Jason was about to attempt to retort him but was quickly met with a fist to his skull. Jason struggled to stay conscious. The Joker reached over and grabbed the crowbar once more. “You’re nothing more than a cheap tool to Batman just like this crowbar! Once I’m done beating you, I’ll toss it aside.” The Joker said more but with the onslaught of hits, Jason struggled to hear anything at all.  
  
  
Once the Joker felt like he had done enough damage, he strolled out saying something unintelligible to Jason’s ears, as he tried to stay conscious. With a loud, CLANK, he knew The Joker was gone, probably walking casually through the snow, like he was on a Sunday stroll through the park completely apathetic to what he had caused. “Bruce will come to get me soon and we can go home and put this all behind us,” he thought. Jason was quick to move after that, if Bruce and Crime Alley had taught him anything, it was to keep fighting no matter what. He moved his handcuffed hands in front of him, just how Bruce taught him, and tried to walk. He was able to make two and a half steps before collapsing on the floor. If he could talk in his current state of six broken ribs, he would have said something about how he has been through worse so he would survive this. The slow and painful army crawl towards the door leads him to nothing but disappointment. Jason reached up and tried tirelessly to open the door but after the fifth failed attempt, he could only assume The Joker either locked it or jammed it. He leaned against it allowing himself to rest even if just for a moment. His rest quickly being interrupted by beeping, just loud enough to hear. He glanced over and was met with The Joker’s last laugh, a bomb. His emerald eyes narrowed at the sight. Jason had three thoughts. First, The Joker needed to die, second, he was doomed to die here, and finally, Bruce was not coming, he was never going to come. One of these thoughts consumed him in indescribable rage and as he closed his eyes, he swore he would kill The Joker, with his own hands. Jason knew he was dead when his body no longer ached, his lungs no longer collapsed and when he opened his eyes, he was met with fire and an unholy screeching filling his ears.  
  
  
Death for Jason was nothing like he could ever experience, thoughts constantly consumed him while he waited in Hell. The whole thing seemed like an awful dream he prayed to wake up from. At times he found himself wondering if The Joker would join him soon. He knew Bruce would avenge him. The haze of Hell fogged his mind as he went through his punishment. His days were filled with, Jason paused in the midst of what he was doing. He didn’t know what his days were filled with. He couldn’t remember what he was doing at all.  
  
  
Jason woke up surrounded by green liquid that filled his lungs and burned his eyes. Jason filled with panic and rage rose from the water and attacked everyone in sight. Jason assumed he was still on Hell until he heard a gunshot ring in the distance and was met with Ra’s al Ghul, the leader of the League of Assassins. Jason in a panic quickly leaped out of the cave to which everyone assumed was a second death. However, Jason was better than the average person. Jason spent the next few weeks on the run, hiding from Ra’s al Ghul’s men. He could not fathom why the leader of the League of Assassins would want him alive. The reason could not be good and right now he had to get home to Bruce and Alfred. He had to get home, that was his first goal. Well not exactly his first goal, his first goal was clothes and food, survival. After days of walking and hiding, he stumbled on a small village. The village was old and run down and the streets were littered with homeless people and broken-down houses. In the dead of the night, Jason stole a simple outfit, slightly too big but was good enough. Throughout the night Jason rummaged through trashcans. After finding just enough food to make a good enough meal he found himself near a broken-down bar. Sitting in an alley by the bar, observing an open window he noticed an old and broken down TV that just barely worked. He ate his scraps and carefully observed the TV. He almost choked on what he saw.  
  
  
“THIS JUST IN, Gotham City’s very own vigilante hero known as Batman, has once again apprehended The Joker after his reign of terror in Bosnia. The Joker now known throughout the country as…” The broadcast showed footage of The Joker being wheeled away in a stretcher. He was not dead; Bruce didn’t kill him. If Bruce were the one that had died, he would have done anything to make sure The Joker would never walk this earth again. Did Bruce’s moral code prevent him from killing The Joker? The man who kidnapped and brainwashed his first son? The same man who shot and paralyzed their dear friend and laughed as she almost bled out? The same bastard who kidnapped Jason, tortured, and killed him? Questions raced through Jason’s brain as he tried to understand why Bruce would let a monster like him win like this. Could Bruce not kill his biggest mistake or was he nothing more than a coward, who could not handle doing what was necessary? Jason knew the answer already. Bruce was a coward hiding behind a cowl and a moral code. His self-righteous moral code is the reason The Joker exists in the first place. His train of thought was broken up by another news broadcast.  
  
  
“Bruce Wayne’s second son, Jason Peter Todd, was tragically killed in a bombing in Bosnia over six months ago. With recent events, the public wonders if his tragic death was related to The Joker. However, when questioned Bruce Wayne had only this to say,” The camera swapped from the reporter to Bruce Wayne standing in front of Wayne Industries.  
  
  
“Mr. Wayne!” one reporter shouts as they push their way in front of the crowd. “How do you feel about the recent rumors? Is it true Jason was killed by The Joker? If this is true, why would you lie about the bombings? What are you hiding Mr. Wayne?”  
  
  
Jason watched the screen to see Bruce’s reaction, to see if he still cared. Bruce’s eyes were dark as he spoke, but his face showed no remorse at all. “My son’s death was a tragedy while we were on vacation sightseeing in Bosnia. All these baseless and heartless rumors are diminishing my son’s death and turning it into a tabloid.”  
  
  
Jason ran before he could hear anymore; those heartless rumors were true, and Bruce knew it. He kept running and running until his legs could not take anymore and he collapsed on the ground. He sat there for a moment until a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He let out a scream as tears streamed down his face. Everything from him and his reasons for becoming a Robin, his death, Bruce’s blatant and uncaring attitude for his “accident” came crashing all at once. Years of bottled-up emotions hit him harder than The Joker's crowbar ever could. When his throat was raw and his eye burning from the outburst, he felt only one thing and that was rage. If anyone were to blame for all of this, it was Batman. Batman created The Joker. Batman is a coward with a god complex. Batman created child soldiers for his own gain. Batman saved his life. Batman gave him a home when no one else would. Batman, no Bruce, was a father he could look up to. Tears began to well up again. He could never be angry at Bruce for this, no matter how much he wanted to. He wanted to go home and be with his dad and Alfred. He wanted nothing more than to tease his “big brother” Dick for how bad he is with dating. Jason knew however, he could never go back especially when his plan was everything Bruce hated. “If Bruce can’t become the monster to kill The Joker, then I will.” Jason stood up and knew what he had to do. He would become everything Bruce hated and be the hero Gotham City needed. Jason knew he was strong enough to do what was needed to be done. He was going to correct Batman’s biggest mistake.  
  
  
He was going to kill The Joker.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my amazing friends: Amanda, Milo, and Jae for putting up with my crazy story and proofreading it frequently. I owe my life to you.


End file.
